Thorn Prince
by AdoringSmiles
Summary: AU; Not everything possesses a soul. Dolls are one of those things; they're meant to sit there quietly and look pretty. Antonio's little treasure refused to do either of those things. Spamano.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Thorn Prince

Rating: T

Summary: AU; Not everything possesses a soul. Dolls are one of those things; they're meant to sit there quietly and look pretty. Antonio's little treasure refused to do either of those things. Spamano.

Pairings: Spamano, AmeCan, BelaLiech, AusHun, FrUK, GerIta, SuFin

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia nor Rozen Maiden, nor anything else mentioned.

A/N: I absolutely adore Spamano and I've always wanted to do a multi-chapter story for it, so...

Here we go!

Side Note: If you find any spelling mistakes, please inform me. Spell check isn't working for some reason, so I have to go by memory.

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There once was a little shop tucked away in the downtown of a quiet town. The shop sold the most beautiful and unique dolls to ever exist. People who stepped inside were instantly mesmerized by how lifelike they seemed. Nearly every person that went in came out with a doll of their own in its own personal case.

The doll maker was a very kind man by the name of Himayura. He spent his days creating the most exquisite creations for all of his loyal customers. There were always the ones he had up for display that weren't for sale though. Those were the most beautiful dolls in the entire shop. Many people begged and begged to buy them, but were always denied. More and more were getting produced, lining the walls with their military-like uniforms, hair shining and eyes twinkling in the lights. Other doll makers had heard of his great skill and were quickly becoming jealous, cursing Himayura's talents. The man was well-aware of the people's anger directed towards him, but the smiles of the people that bought his creations were enough motivation for him to continue with his passion for it.

Then tragedy struck.

Himayura arrived back to his shop in the early morning hours to check on his precious babies and set everything up before he opened the doors to the shop, When he approached, he could already tell something was wrong. It was a sickening feeling, like he had been torn away from his life source. This feeling made his blood run cold and he dashed into the shop, throwing open the doors that he knew he hadn't left unlocked, and nearly screamed at the lack of his greatest creations lining his walls. They were gone. All of them. All of the beautiful dolls that he spent all his time and effort and love on were gone.

The man never did end up recovering his treasures and quickly lost his motivation to create any new wonders. The shop closed shortly after his loss and he disappeared. No one knew where he went to, no matter how hard they searched. The competition was overjoyed, to say the least. Now they could gain back their lost customers! It was a success and failure mixed into one. They did gain back their customers, plus more, but they were never truly awed or satisfied with their work. They always wanted the life-like quality of Himayura's work. Alas, they never could. They were stuck wondering where he was and if he would ever come back.

_**Pomodoro!**_

"What do you _mean_ you took it from Elizaveta? Are you insane?" Francis demanded, staring at the albino like he was mad. Gilbert just snorted and rolled his eyes, waving the Frenchman off.

"Oh quiet Francey-pants, that tomboy didn't have anywhere to put them anymore anyway."

"_Them?" _he demanded, blue eyes widening as he realized his German (Prussian, as Gilbert always insisted) friend was implying that he took more than one.

"What? She said they were a double set. If one left, the other had to go with it." Gilbert replied nonchalantly, already used to the dramatics.

"Where in the world is the other one then?" Francis demanded because in all honesty, his curiosity was killing him, and from the look of the case was held in, it was bound to be beautiful. And if there were two, maybe his Spanish friend would allow him to take the other one...

"I gave it to West."

"You gave it to _Ludwig?"_

"Ja! Got a problem with it?"

"Why, in all that is beautiful, would you give it to him? He wouldn't even like things like this!"

"And _you _would?"

"Beauty deserves to be displayed, not hidden in a corner to collect dust!"

"It'll just end up sitting on your shelf, collecting dust anyway!"

"No it won't! It'll-"

"Guys!" A voice interrupted, causing both males to turn their heads to look at the source of the voice with annoyance. "Calm down. So what if Gilbert gave the other one to Ludwig? It isn't that big of a deal. Why did you want to give this one to me anyway?"

Gilbert took a second to compose himself after tauntingly sticking his tongue out at the Frenchman, looking back over at Antonio. "Because I don't know what Francis would end up doing with the thing. Plus you like Italian things, right? They said it was made in Italy."

Antonio let out a small "Ooooo," of excitement, reaching over to drag the box closer. He flashed a cheerful grin the silver-haired man's way, subconsciously clutching the case closer at the envious look thrown his way from the blond. Gilbert grinned victoriously and stretched out his tired limbs, pushing his body up from the floor slowly.

"Francis," he called, snorting at the hurt grumble he got in return. "Yo, Francey-pants, we gotta go. Isn't it time to go see your cousin or somethin'? I think we're already late." A shocked gasp was followed after his realization and the sound of someone scrambling around before a hurried "À bientôt!" and the slam of a door. Antonio was suddenly left in the silence of his apartment, smiling in amusement to himself. His friends were so odd!

His smile grew fonder before eventually falling into a curious expression as he studied the case in his arms, intrigued by the patterns curling around the entire thing. Emerald thorns snaked across the sides and curled around blooming roses, seemingly choking the poor flowers. Petals peeked over the vines and folded over them, the crimson vibrant against the snowy background. They crept up to the front of the case, curling and protecting a crowned heart in the center. Under the heart it was scrawled in gold script 'Beware the Thorn Prince.'

"Beware the Thorn Prince?" he repeated in confusion, head tilted somewhat as he read over the line a few more times to make sure he hadn't been mistaken. Sure enough, the words were right there, unchanging. "What is that supposed to mean?" It was truly confusing. It sounded too much like a warning to really be a title... But Thorn Prince? What king of name was that? Was it saying it was going to be wrapped up in thorns?

Antonio was much too curious to really wait. What was the point of waiting anyway? Gilbert had given it to him, so it was his now. Whatever it was...

Fingers creeping to the edge of the case, he was right about to open it before a loud knock sounded at his door and he drew his hand back with a sharp gasp, head instantly turning to stare. "Si?"

"I'm home! Come make me some dinner!" Silvio, Antonio's older brother called, making the Spaniard grimace. He was hoping he wouldn't come home for a few more days at the very least. He was always gone anyway; him and their parents, always on business trips, traveling all over the world. Half the time he suspected they didn't even go for business, but the exhausted smiles his father would send him whenever he came home always made him rethink his doubts.

Pushing himself up, he grumbled to himself and walked out, shooting the man a dirty look. To say that their relationship was strained would be a huge understatement. They never seemed to be able to agree on anything, no matter how large or small the issue was. Silvio even went so far as to side with Antonio's enemy! Arthur, that damn bastard... He took everything away! Even when they were in kindergarten together and Antonio had just been minding his own business, the British boy had swooped in and stolen the pirate ship toy that the Spaniard had been playing with. That had begun their feud, even if they were too small to really understand how long it would last.

After the meal and the strained silence had finally ended, he trudged back up to his room and plopped down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying to formulate a plan on how he could fill up a three minute speech for English all about tomatoes before he finally remembered that he had been rudely interrupted earlier. He grinned and rolled out of the bed, crawling over to the box to finally satisfy his burning curiosity.

To his severe disappointment, all that greeted his eyes was a cross necklace and an old-looking piece of parchment, letters written in gold, just like on the front of the box. An uncharacteristic frown tugged at his lips as he picked up both items, studying them in his hands before he turned his full attention to the letter, trying to decipher the cursive. Who wrote in cursive nowadays anyway? Computers had cursive fonts people could use. Squinting, he read over the contents, somewhat confused.

_**Dear Reader,**_

**_If you are reading this, it means that you have come into the possession of one of my treasures. If you own one of my treasures, it is safe to say I have passed on. I trust you to take care of him, despite his harsh personality_.**

'Harsh personality?' he thought to himself, brows furrowed. 'What was in the case? A dead body?' He continued on though, curiosity outweighing his confusion.

_**He is one of my favorite children, though he doesn't believe it.**_

Holy crap, it really was a dead body!

_**Oh, I'm probably confusing you... I'm sure he is probably still asleep. I must warn you, he'll fall asleep a lot. He's an amazing creation though, once you get past his defenses. To awaken him, just turn the clock on his wrist.**_

Creation? Who the hell calls their own child their creation? What did Gilbert give him?! And how would turning a clock wake a dead boy up?!

Wait...

Where was the body?! He searched around frantically before looking back at the letter, desperately hoping for answers. Sane answers!

_**If he has escaped (this happens often, there's no need to worry), then all you must do is put on the cross , hold it tight and chant 'pomodoro.' Have a tomato ready for him as an offering. You will land on his good side for this action.**_

This was seriously getting freaky. Though, now his curiosity had grown to monstrous proportions. He just couldn't let a dead body lay around his house either or Silvio would kick his ass. He held the letter and necklace tightly in his hand as he quickly jogged to the kitchen to grab one of his home-grown tomatoes, checking around him the entire time. Maybe this was just a really messed up practical joke...

Locking the door behind him once he had returned, he sat cross-legged on his bed and slipped the necklace on, feeling more than childish, clasping it tightly in his free hand. "Pomodoro..." he muttered quietly, cheeks heating up slightly. He squirmed in his spot, trying to keep his voice down. "Pomodoro, pomodoro, pmodoro, pomodoro..."

Suddenly, the tomato was yanked out of his hands and his eyes flew open in shock, doubling in size at the sight in front of him.

"Tch. This tomato is fucking small." A somewhat deep voice scoffed, the person the voice belonged to biting into it eagerly, despite his harsh words. The letter fell from Antonio's hands as he gaped at the man, missing the warning scrawled out at the bottom of the page.

_**If he comes to you willingly, then you have made a contract. Congratulations! You are now his master, though I am quite sure he will control you far more than you can control him. He is the most loyal though, so you have gotten lucky. Somewhat. Beware my friend, for this is my Thorn Prince. You have chosen my most unique child, though there is another with his face.**_

_**Dear reader, you must never separate these two look-alikes. If their bond is weakened, it will be a downfall of all of my creations. They shall both fall into a deep sleep, and along with them, their masters shall too.**_

_**I fear for your life if you have separated them, friend. I pray that you have not.**_

_**Good luck with your bonding. Please, give them my best wishes.**_

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Himayura**_


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Whoa! I didn't expect this many reviews right off the bat! Thanks a lot you guys!

I'm sorry if you guys find my updating pretty slow, but I'm trying to keep from pressuring myself into getting it done in a week. This updating schedule is going better than my other story, I can tell you that. BelaLiech isn't as popular as a pairing! ;; Quite a sad day for a shipper.

Anyhow! I'm very sorry for forgetting to add translations at the bottom of the last chapter!

Note: Silvio is Portugal. I found it very sad to have Antonio as an only child, so out came Portugal He won't be around much. o u o;

On with the story!

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"Who- What- Why- What?!" the Spanish teen shrieked, skittering backwards away from the other... _thing _at the end of his bed. It scowled and flipped him off, biting into the tomato once more.

"Choose one fucking thing to ask, idiot." it huffed, rolling its eyes in an exaggerated manner before focusing his- her?- attention back on the fruit in front of it. Antonio just continued to stare, dumbfounded and more than a little confused, trying to piece together exactly what had happened. One minute he was sitting there, chanting Pomodoro, the next there was a...

Holy shit, it was the kid! Holy shit, holy shit! It was still alive?! How-?!

"I thought you were dead!" he gasped, emerald eyes wide. The boy gave him a startled look mid-bite, red juice dribbling down his chin. He stared at him hard for a few moments, as if he was trying to recognize an old acquaintance before he finally scowled again and swallowed the piece of tomato.

"I don't even fucking know you." he replied, turning away from him to study the walls of his room. He stared at a picture of the Spaniard and his father for a few minutes before turning back to him, golden gaze cold. "So, are you my contracter or not?"

"Que?" he responded automatically, dark brows furrowing. What did he mean by contractor?

The small child didn't seem thrown off by the language switch, just rolling with it any repeated himself. "Are you my contracted or not?"

What was with this boy and asking about a contract? He wasn't hiring him for a job or anything!

A loud sigh was his response, along with a very slow eye roll. The boy (he assumed it was a male due to his voice, despite the pink maid's dress throwing him off) wiped his hands off on his blanket and crossed his chubby arms over his chest, hip jutting out to the side. "Listen up, idiota. You put on the rings and become my contractor. Simple as that. Even your pea-sized brain should be able to comprehend that."

"Rings?" he echoed, head cocked to the left slightly as he tried to process his words. He didn't recall seeing any ring in his box, and after another quick inspection, he came up empty. What rings? The letter said he just needed to put on the necklace...

"Feliciano's ring. My ring. The fucking rings." the little cross-dresser hissed, shoulders hunched up against his ears.

"Lo siento, but there were no rings." he apologized, giving a little shrug. It wasn't his fault that the rings weren't there, so he was somewhat confused by the sudden growl coming from the little boy. Why was he so angry with _him?_ It wasn't as if he decided to hide them. There would be no point in that.

Lovino stomped his foot before turning around to storm to his box and flip it upside down, holding it above his head to shake it angrily. There was a clinking sound coming from within and he huffed in triumph, slamming it back on the ground. He shot a smug look over his shoulder at the Spaniard before turning his attention back on his case. He opened a small hidden compartment, producing one ring from within. "There is my fucking ring." he huffed, tossing it to him.

_This boy has a pretty filthy mouth... _Antonio thought to himself, studying the object that was pretty much thrown at him. It was just as incatrite and delicate as the designs on his case, the rose winding its way through the thorns before blooming over the metal of the band.

The doll was becoming increasingly impatient now, tapping his foot as he sighed. Finally he just stomped his foot and snapped, "Will you just fucking put it on already?"

Antonio jumped slightly, having been completely caught up in staring at the ring. He quickly slipped it onto his left ring finger, wincing when the metal bit into his skin. His eyes practically popped out of his skull when the thorns creeped up his finger and wrapped around it tightly, tiny rivulets of blood running down his finger. "What's going on?!" he shouted, trying to pull the ring off, only serving to get the thorns to dig deeper into his skin.

The other was shivering and trembling, blankets bunched up in his tiny hands. He sunk to the floor and sighed in satisfaction deeply, murmuring to himself in Italian.

"Chico...?" Antonio gasped after a long period of silence, his tone laced with pain from the ring. At least it had stopped bleeding...

"My name is Lovino." A significantly deeper voice answered him, startling the poor man. An older looking version of the boy from just moments before peeked up at him, looking extremely satisfied with himself. He stood, now seemingly a few inches taller than Antonio himself, and brushed himself off, wearing an odd-looking outfit. It looked like some form of a military outfit...

"Who..." he began in a daze, feeling as if this was some kind of a dream gone far out of control. The man smirked at him and snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I already told you, I'm Lovino, idiota. Dio, don't you know how to listen?" Lovino was already becoming exasperated with his new master. Why did he have to get a moron this time? He already had to deal with it enough with his stupid little fucking brother...

Speaking of brothers... Where was his?

"Oi!" he exclaimed suddenly, glancing around, signature frown twisting his expression. "Where the fuck is Feliciano?"

"Feliciano?" the still-dazed Spaniard repeated, unsure of who he was talking about now. What the hell was going on? Was he drunk? He didn't remember drinking any wine... Maybe Gilbert slipped some weed into his food at one point... He barely caught the irritated snap of "My brother, stupid!" He was far too enveloped in his attempt at remembering any way he could be imagining this without just being plain crazy.

"Your brother...? But you're supposed to be a dead little boy... What is this ring...? Why did it do this...?"

A low groan was his immediate response and he frowned slightly, unsure as to why he was getting mad at _him _for being confused about this creepy ass situation.

"Dear God, you're a moron! I'm a doll, you made a contract with me by putting on the ring so I wouldn't be stuck as a child, and I'm using your energy to stay moving. Feliciano is my brother, the doll that looks identical to me. We're always sold together, so if you ave me, you must have him. Now, where is he?" The... doll?... explained quickly, hands balling up the material at his hips.

"What? Gilbert only gave me one... Wait, you're a _doll?_ Dolls don't move!" he protested, shaking his head quickly. This was getting way out of hand!

"Yeah, well, I fucking do! And who the hell is Gilbert?! Does that bastard have Feliciano?!" the Italian shouted, advancing on the human with a snarl. "Get him back. _Get him back!" _

Antonio jumped slightly, hands flying up in surrender. "Fine, fine!" he exclaimed, going with the whole situation. It was probably a dream anyway, so why not indulge his mind? He would wake up in the morning and the case would just be sitting there with a regular old doll in it. He could give it to Francis and everything would be fine. He quickly pulled out his cell phone and dialed his albino friend's number, waiting to hear him pick up. Lovino glared at him the entire time, the rage practically rolling off of him in waves.

"Gilbert? Yeah, hola, it's Antonio!"

A pause followed by embarrassed laughter.

"Si, si, I know you have caller I.D."

Another pause, the Spaniard rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Well, I was wondering if Ludwig would mind giving me the other doll...?"

He coughed quickly after, heat rising in his cheeks.

"Please just tell me if he still has it."

He paled and gave Lovino a panicked look, causing the doll to growl viciously.

"He... He went to Germany... With the doll...?"

A loud curse was heard in the background of Antonio's room, peaking the Prussian's interest.

"No one is here. It was just the television. Um, could you possibly tell me when he comes back...?"

"Come back now with my brother!" Lovino shrieked in the background, causing Antonio to jump once more and turn away from the raging Italian.

"No one is here! Thanks Gilbert, adios!" he said quickly, hanging up before turning hesitantly to the ranting man behind him. The doll shot him the dirtiest look he had ever saw and snarled, face red with fury.

"My brother is trapped in Germany with a stranger?! If we don't get him back here, you and his fucking contractor are going to die, morons!"

His dreams were obviously getting far more complicated than he had dealt with before.

Maybe it was time to see a shrink...

"And we'll dance on your fucking graves!"

He pulled out his phone once more and unlocked it, dialing a number as he turned away from him once more.

"Yes, hello? I would like to talk to Dr. Myers, please..."

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Translations:

A bientot! - See you later! {French; Chapter 1}

Pmodoro. - Tomato. {Italian; Chapter 1}

Que? - What? {Spanish}

Idiota. - Idiot. {Italian}

Lo siento. - I'm sorry. {Spanish}

Chico... - Boy... {Spanish}

Dio. - God. {Italian}

Hola. - Hello. {Spanish}

Si. - Yes. {Spanish}

Adios! - Goodbye! {Spanish}


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I have absolutely no idea why I made Ludwig go to Germany.

Why did I do that.

I killed my direction.

Geh. ;; Well, I'm very glad you guys have read this! Thank you for all the follows and favorites and reviews! Even though I've completely lost my way with this story-

And I'm very sorry for the late update! Studying for finals really sucks...

Anyway! Enjoy!

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The birds were singing sweetly when Antonio opened his eyes to the harsh sunlight, making him groan and roll onto his other side to escape from the brightness. A yelp and a low growl was heard before he was suddenly violently shoved onto the cold hard-wood floor, instantly snapping him out of his sleepy state. He briefly wondered if Silvio had slipped into his bed that night, but quickly dismissed it on the grounds of that being a completely stupid idea.

"Stupid bastard! Ever roll on me again and I'll shove a fork up your ass!" he heard, his brain hazily trying to match the voice with a face, until the previous night flooded into his brain. Oh. So that wasn't a dream. He really did have a violent, talking doll. That went from a child to an adult. Well.

"Lo siento." he mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a loud yawn. He heard a hmph from above before the rustling of his bed sheets, a tired frown tugging at his lips. He wanted to go back to sleep...

"If you're so sorry, then go get me some damn tomatoes." the doll huffed, making Antonio squirm. He felt bad for rolling over on him, but he really wanted to sleep... "If you sit there for too long, your brain will rot."

"Fine." he sighed, pushing himself off of the hard surface with a long stretch. He caught a glimpse of honey eyes peering at him before a pillow was thrown in his face and he stumbled back, clutching onto the soft item in surprise.

"Hurry up!" the Italian snapped, a low, demanding hiss following shortly after. Another sigh was heard from the Spaniard as he let the pillow drop to the floor, turning on his heel to stumble out into the hallway. He glanced up at the clock hanging in the hallway as he passed by it to go into the kitchen, his exhaustion only growing. He _never _woke up this early! Who the hell was awake at eight in the morning on a Saturday anyway?! This was definitely not turning out the way he wanted it to...

He padded into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes a few more times to let them adjust. A white note caught his attention and he made a little hum of curiosity, fingertips skating over the smooth surface of the island as he made his way around it to read the words clearly.

"'Oi, stupid brat,'" he read out loud, a grimace settling on his features as he realized who had written it. Damn it. "'I'm leaving again. If you burn down the house, you're a dead man. If mom and dad come home, tell them I stopped by. Signed, Silvio.'" Well, that got him conveniently out of the way. Now he wouldn't have to worry about him discovering Lovino or anything. Speaking of the little doll...

"Yo, fucking moron! Hurry up and get it already! I know you're an idiot, but even a baby could get some tomatoes!" he heard screeched from his room, causing him to let out a puff of irritation. Since when did it turn into him being bossed around in his own home? Just the previous morning, he had been able to groggily roll out of bed and blast his Spanish music, yawning and munching on tomatoes as he sleepily tugged on his uniform and dragged himself outside to get a ride from Francis. He had a feeling that the doll may turn into a large issue for him...

He sighed and shook his head, crumpling up the note to toss into the trashcan before making his way to his fridge, shivering at the blast of cool air on his bare arms. He leaned over to pull open the bin containing his favorite fruit and pulled a few out, hesitating before grabbing the milk carton to pour the prissy doll something to drink.

When he returned with the food and drinks, Lovino was sitting up in the bed, auburn hair a tousled mess, his shirt (_his, _Antonio's very own shirt) wrinkled and just a bit too short on him when he stretched, exposing a strip of dark skin. His sweats were bunched up around his knees, the elastic straining over his kneecaps. When the Italian caught his stare he scowled, pulling the blanket over himself. "Fucking pervert."

Antonio flushed lightly despite his innocence, clearing his throat before offering him the tray, a sheepish smile brightening his features. "I cut some up for you in case you wanted a change." he informed him, falling into his friendly nature easily. It doesn't hurt to be nice! Even if the person he was being nice to was a doll that talked and moved and seemed to hate his guts...

"Like I give a shit." was the instant reply, along with a jerk of the tray in Lovino's direction. He flashed him the middle finger and bit into one of the full tomatoes, completely ignoring the energy the Spaniard put into cutting up the tomatoes to please him. Crimson juice dribbled down his chin as he chomped away, nose scrunching up like a cute little rabbit's (in Antonio's opinion) when he spotted the milk. "I don't drink milk." he muttered, pushing it away from him.

"Oh, I'm sorry! What do you drink then?" he questioned, somewhat curious. Were dolls even able to drink? Well, if they could eat...

"Tomato juice."

Tomato juice? But he was already eating tomatoes... Even that was a bit too much in his opinion, and he ate tomatoes with practically every meal! Wait, how was he even able to eat? How was he even able to _move? _He still understood absolutely nothing about the situation he had gotten himself into. When he was younger, dolls only talked and walked when you made them. They didn't make you put on rings that made you bleed, and they definitely didn't insult him constantly.

"Lovino," he spoke slowly, easing himself onto the bed. Immediately said boy looked at him suspiciously, body twisting to keep the tomato out of his grasp.

"What the hell do you want?"

"I'm just... confused," He ignored the interject of "about more things than one," and continued on with speaking. "About this situation. How can you talk? How are you able to walk? Are there more than one of these... _dolls_ like you?"

Emerald eyes studied the other on his bed for a few moments before uttering a sigh and turned to face him completely, setting the half-devoured fruit down on the tray. He took a few deep breaths before his shoulders slumped and he ran a hand through his hair, drawing his attention to a stray curl springing from his head. What the...? When had that gotten there? Oh, it looked really cute-

"I was created a very, very long time ago," Lovino began quietly, his fiery attitude calming to a slight sizzle. "Longer than you've lived. Longer than your grandparents have lived. Father created a lot of us, but many were destroyed after we were stolen from him. Once people heard that we were stolen, they scrambled to get us for themselves. So, we've been stolen and passed down and sold for decades now... We're usually able to strike up a contract with most people, but some of the crazier bastards freak out when they see us get up, so they... try to destroy us. Most of us escape. The rest die." His shoulders visibly tensed and his fingers curled into fists, trembling slightly from emotion. "The ones that are broken are just broken. We can't fix them. Father is gone, so we have no one to recreate them. We can't do shit for them. Humans just decided to fucking take us, and when they decided they didn't like what they saw, they just fucking smashed them to bits. Even though it's not their place to decide whether we should be able to live or not."

Antonio tried to take all of this new information in, his heart cracking at the sight of the doll becoming overcome with emotion. His arms were instantly around him, drawing him into his chest. "Fusososososo..." he soothed, rubbing his back gently. "Fusososososo..."

"Wh.. What the fuck?" the other questioned in a daze, too stunned to react straight away. Was he breaking or something?

"It's a cheer up charm!" he explained, his hand still making soothing circles across his back. "You were getting so sad... I needed to cheer you up!" The little squeeze he delivered was enough to crack Lovino's momentary stunned attitude, the fire sparking and leaping back into a full blaze. He shoved him away and scowled, cheeks tinged with embarrassment.

"Don't fucking touch me ever again! How dare you, you jackass! If you ever- ever _hug _me again, I'll kill you!" he screeched, throwing one of the freshly picked tomatoes directly in the line of his face. He was panting hard, timer ticking out of control. Antonio laughed and dodged the flying fruit, grin large and amused, picking up one of the slices to throw back at him before his expression shifted to that of concern.

"Lovino...?" he asked hesitantly, reaching out to touch the suddenly still brunet. The moment his hand connected with his shoulder the other slumped, falling into his lap. "Dios mio! Lovino!" he exclaimed in a panic, shaking him repeatedly.

"Lovino! Lovino, are you okay? _Lovino!_"

* * *

Translations:

Dios mio! - My God! {Spanish}


End file.
